


turns me to gold in the sunlight

by jasminemelt



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Existentialism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Time Travel, funky tense changes, me being experimental sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminemelt/pseuds/jasminemelt
Summary: It is a quiet revelation: Hide is a promise, half-whispered in the dark.Snow falls around you, slowly and gently, in the radius of the light of the lantern he holds in his gloved hand. He opens his mouth to speak, when the light flickers out, and the residue of the sorrow on his face imprints itself into your head.And so it is, again – darkness, swallowing all worlds whole.--AU oneshot in which Kaneki really does eat Hide, but by doing so, triggers a quasi time-loop on Hide's end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this story is dark, so read with caution. The title is a reference to Florence + The Machine's "Rabbit Heart."
> 
> Also, I played around with 1st/2nd/3rd person and present/past/future tenses. At the beginning of each section in the story, it lets you know the title//x-person/x-tense. The point of this is to -- well, hopefully you'll get it by the end. I'll explain in the footnotes.
> 
> This is unbetad so sorry for any mistakes.

_for some reason, the world is ending_

“The human heart has a tiresome tendency to label as fate only what crushes it…”

-“Appendix: Hope and the Absurd in the Work of Franz Kafka” from _The Myth of Sisyphus_ by Albert Camus

* * *

 

**i. joseph & mary//2nd person/present**

 

It is a quiet revelation: Hide is a promise, half-whispered in the dark. 

Snow falls around you, slowly and gently, in the radius of the light of the lantern he holds in his gloved hand. He opens his mouth to speak, when the light flickers out, and the residue of the sorrow on his face imprints itself into your head.

And so it is, again – darkness, swallowing all worlds whole.

 “Whoops,” says Hide with an easygoing laugh. There is the sound of his boots crunching in the snow. “Now, where did I put that flashlight?”

 "It’s a dark night tonight,” you say offhandedly.

 “Yeah – found it!” Hide switches the flashlight on, and your universe is safe again. “No moon today. Or stars, now that I think about it.” He sets the heavy lantern down in the snow. “I’ll just leave this here. We still have some ways to go, and it’ll just be dead weight.”

You make a noise of agreement. He gives you that look, the one where you know he’s reading all your secrets.

“You okay? You haven’t been saying much for a while.”

“I’m okay,” you say, and the lie must seep into your smile because you can tell by the heaviness of his gaze that Hide is not reassured. You say hastily, “So what did you want to tell me?”

He pauses, and anxiety pools in your gut. Hide never hesitates.

“Do you remember how we met?” he says, and you want him to get straight to the point, but you know you must be patient – after all, how many times has he been patient with you? – and you nod.

“Of course,” you say. You recall the sound of ice cubes clinking in a glass, the scent of mint leaves and lemon slices wafting under your nose. When everything was whole, you remember, and your heart was cold.

“But do you remember the first words I said to you?” He is smiling now, and it is a small smile, a bitter smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless. You nod again. The snow is too warm around you, as the two of you quote in tandem, “ ‘I want to die.’”

He starts walking again, and you have no choice but to follow. The feeling of snow giving way under your feet calms you.

“Those were awful days for me,” he says, and when you glance sidelong at his face, his eyes are full of that sorrow again. “But you know something, Kaneki? You were so precious to me that I couldn’t let life go so easily, when it really came down to it.”

When it really came down to it. You remember. The noise of Tokyo streets, the summer heat wave and the tide of cicadas, shrieking from the trees – and the sharp taste of bile rising in your throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you frown like that,” says Hide with a small huff of a laugh. “It’s easy for me to talk about it, but I’m sure it’s hard for you to hear.”

You stop walking. You ask, “Why is it easy?” because Hide may be exceptionally perceptive, but you are exceptionally empathetic, and you know, somewhere inside, Hide is still crying.

“It’s not so much a question of why as it is of how,” says Hide, and he stops walking too, a few steps in front of you. He turns to look at you, pointing his flashlight at your torso. “You know what I’m talking about. We were both pretty miserable when we were younger, weren’t we?”

When he phrases it like that, you understand. You continue walking, and he continues with you.

“That day I met you, I made myself a promise. That when nothing makes sense anymore, nothing at all, when the world is so absurd that I can’t make sense of up from down, and my thoughts have coiled infinitely in my head – I told myself I’m going to tell you that I love you.”

His words are gathered and spilt into the frost. He gazes steadily forward, and you, beside him, let the realization of the past – _Hide is a promise, half-whispered in the dark_ – pierce into the revelation of the present – _that day I met you, I made myself a promise._

And you let the sobs emerge as easily as speckled dust from too much sunlight, because Hide has blanketed the sky and, once more, life will follow the trajectory of the boomerang.

“Hey now, don’t cry,” Hide says. He gives an embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t think it would upset you like this. Do I disgust you that much?”

“Of course not,” you say, fighting the grief, wiping your eyes. “You think I didn’t know? Or that I don’t love you too?” From the corner of your eye, you see that he smiles, so you smile too. “But look at us. Where we are, who we are.” Why we are, were the unspoken words. Or perhaps it should have been, why we are not.

“Yeah,” he says softly, and he takes your hand. His footsteps and yours crunch together. “We can’t go back now.”

 

* * *

 

**ii. joseph, son of jacob//3 rd person/past**

 

Once, Kaneki believed in fate. He was a dreamer. The universe may be full of mysteries and impossibilities and contradictions, but what connected them all were the threads of destiny. Every word, thought, and action had meaning. Every step carried weight. Every spilled vessel had a counterbalancing water bearer to draw more water from the well. Justice was written into the laws of nature, and the earth was generous with its signs for the lost traveler.

 It was during this time, when the tendrils of twilight still sang lullabies of hope to each dying day, and each red leaf stark against the pavement still signified a wish fulfilled, somewhere out there in this vast world, that Kaneki first met Hide.

It happened in a garden behind a coffee shop. Anteiku’s latest renovation was surrounded by shady trees, green painted gates, and the back wall of the shop. Kaneki sat in one of the plain white chairs, a worn paperback in his hands, an empty cup off-center in its saucer at the other end of the table.

Laughter rang from a nearby couple sharing a joke. The ice cubes in their tall glasses clinked pleasantly. A cool breeze swept through the trees, and with it came the scent of an afternoon caught between late summer and early autumn – mint, lemon, and sweetened coffee.

Someone slid into the chair opposing him. Kaneki glanced up and saw golden hair, amber eyes. Lastly, a placid smile. It was the emptiness in his smile that startled Kaneki the most.

When the other man didn’t say anything, Kaneki said uncertainly, “Can I help you?”

The other man gave a small laugh, a dry thing, as if someone had wrung all the joy out of his vocal cords, and said mildly, as if he were commenting on the weather, “I want to die.”

Kaneki stiffened. The man still had the ghost of a smile over his lips, but his eyes were glassy, almost soulless. He wasn’t joking. Kaneki placed his bookmark carefully in his book, and set it on the table gently, face down.

“What’s your name?” he decided to ask.

“Nagachika Hideyoshi.”

“Well, Nagachika-san—”

“Hide. Call me Hide.”

“Hide, then. Why do you want to die?”

“Life doesn’t make sense anymore. I screwed up. Kaneki, when will this be over?”

Kaneki paused. “You know my name. Have we – have we met before?”

Hide’s face crumpled. The hollowness in his voice sounded truly “I messed up again. I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. This was my last chance, but I messed it up. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Hide,” said Kaneki, reaching for the other man’s shoulder. The informality of the name felt wrong on his tongue, but he pressed on. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’ve always been like this. So willing to give, so reluctant to receive. Even with strangers."

“Are we strangers?” Kaneki gripped Hide’s shoulder more tightly. Hide cast his eyes toward the empty cup.

“Yes. And no.”

Kaneki breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Start from the beginning. What’s going on?”

“Let’s talk somewhere private,” said Hide. He gave Kaneki a pleading look. “Please.”

“…Okay.” Kaneki tucked his book under his arm and led Hide into the coffee shop. When he saw Touka, he asked with a sheepish smile, “Hey, Touka-chan, something urgent came up. Can I borrow one of the back rooms for a bit?”

“This isn’t a playground,” said Touka flatly, but when she saw the unease on Kaneki’s face and the dullness of Hide’s eyes, she added, “Go ahead. No one should be there right now.”

“Thanks.”

“You still work here?” asked Hide as they crossed the main corridor.

“I’ve never worked here in my life,” said Kaneki, with a strange glance at the other boy.

“Hm.”

Kaneki wondered if maybe Hide was crazy. Maybe he saw Kaneki’s name and face somewhere and thought he knew him, and made up some wild story and really believed it. Or maybe it was all an elaborate prank. Or a dare. It didn’t seem like a prank, but if it were, Kaneki would have to give it to Hide that he was a very convincing actor.

They entered the last room on the right.

“So,” Kaneki prompted, crossing his arms.

“So.” Hide sat heavily on one of the couches and laid an arm over his eyes. “It’s a funny thing, fate. No matter what I do, it seems I can’t accomplish the one thing I want to accomplish.”

“Which is? No – first, tell me what you do.”

“It’s tough to say. You’re not going to believe me.” Hide huffed a laugh. His arm fell back down to his side, but his head remained against the couch and he stared up at Kaneki with dark shineless eyes as he said, “I’m a time traveler. Can you believe that, Ken?”

 

* * *

 

**iii. adam & eve//2nd person/present**

 

Once, you were a dreamer, who believed in ghosts and angels and stars.

Right now, you are only a shadow of that previous self, that beautiful and naïve Kaneki Ken who made wishes in fountains and sketched outlines of possible soulmates in a drawing book; that Kaneki Ken who first met Hide with genuine astonishment and care, and believed he had the power to change something about this world.

Now, you are only a shadow. Walking through the snow. You hold Hide’s hand. The two of you seek shelter. An abandoned home lying on the outskirts of town, kitchen lights still on and the heater still running. Everyone has fled, but the two of you.

After a dinner of leftover curry, reheated over the stove and mixed with microwavable rice, you go to the bathroom and take a bath first. Then, as Hide takes his bath, you read your favorite Takatsuki Sen novel. When he emerges, the both of you smell like a stranger’s shampoo and body wash. He dims the lights in the living room, and you don’t bother with your bookmark as you set your book down gently on the coffee table, face down. He steps forward, takes your face in his hands – smiles. You kiss him.

The next morning,

The next m

there is no next morni

                                    ng

 

the wor

             ld

                 has en

                            d

                               e

                                    d 

_(…and you let the sobs emerge as easily as speckled dust from too much sunlight, because Hide has blanketed the sky and, once more, life will follow the trajectory of the boomerang.)_

…

…

…

…

…

It’s always been like this, hasn’t it? Between the two of you. As soon as one gets close to the other, as soon as you actualize your love, it’s as if the universe just takes him away – it happens so easily. He is swept from you; you are bereft of him. The eternal dance.

If you still believed in fate, you would feel angry. But you don’t. All you feel is emptiness. There is an ache where Hide should be; there has always been an ache where Hide should have been. Will this ache ever subside? You don’t know.

But just like this, floating in the darkness, recalling the memories of all the timelines Hide visited to fight for you, to save you—

**a whisper from the future…**

_(I’ve failed so many times to save you. Can you ever forgive me?)_

—the memories of all the other Kanekis, pieced together in your head; you have one identity now. You are the whole Kaneki Ken, the whole Sasaki Haise, the whole one-eyed king (even though in the most recent timelines, you were never made into a ghoul – Hide made sure of that).

Hide tried to save you from your destiny. But both he and you know now that there is no destiny; he has been trying to save you from nothing.

There is only one way through this.

_(…and, once more, life will follow the trajectory of the boomerang…)_

…

…

…

…

…

You taste bile. You hear the cicadas in the trees, the honking horns in the streets, and the rise of a murmur among the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Before you open your eyes, you know where you are.

Hide is lying down on the concrete. Hide has a broken leg, a twisted wrist, and a number of scrapes and bruises. Hide jumped out of a building. Hide tried to commit suicide, but at the last moment, changed his mind and propelled himself towards a ledge to slow his fall. In a way, Hide was very lucky. Hide didn’t know you would be there to see him fall. And until this moment, you didn’t know Hide was still suffering inside. Now you know. Now you know.

And you know where you are, and you know why things happened, and what’s going to happen; but even with all the knowledge about the past, present, and future, your mind is shutting down. Right now, there is nothing in your heart but anguish.

You run towards his broken body, just like you did before, but before your vocal cords can exert any force, before you can hover over his form and search your pockets frantically for your phone, before even the tears have fully welled in your eyes; you are thrust back, back, back once again into the past, into the new present, in the old timeline, with your new memories of old obstacles, old faces.

 

* * *

 

**iv. isaac//3 rd person/past**

 

“How did you time travel?”

Hide didn’t respond at first, just played with the frayed ends of a corded bracelet on his wrist, tucking and flicking it mindlessly. Eventually, he said:

“That’s a secret I’m going to keep to myself for now. I don’t want to weird you out too much in the beginning.”

“It’s a little late to say that, don’t you think?” deadpanned Kaneki, smiling wryly.

“I’m still sort of surprised you believe me,” said Hide, laughing. “Though, when I think harder about it, it’s not that much of a surprise.”

“If anyone else said that kind of thing to me, I probably wouldn’t,” Kaneki admitted. “But there’s something about you that makes me feel I can trust you. And you know a lot about me – things I’ve never spoken to anyone about.”

“I could just be a stalker with excellent deductive skills,” said Hide with a sly grin.

“Maybe. But – hm – I doubt that.”

“Hey! I _do_ have great deductive skills!”

“Are you trying to persuade or dissuade me from trusting you?”

“I’ll be quiet now.”

Kaneki laughed. “Time traveling does sound pretty extraordinary though. But there are a lot of extraordinary things out there in the world. And – and maybe it’s meant to be, you know? Whoever granted you the power to defy time must have given it to you for a reason.”

Hide’s eyes dimmed a little. When he smiled, he looked sad. “You’ve always been a dreamer. An idealist.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Of course not. There’s nothing at all wrong with you. Actually,” – Hide looked almost shy as he continued – “you might be the only thing right in this world. All the worlds.”

Kaneki felt peculiar and, truth be told, a little uneasy. “What do you mean?”

“Hm, I wonder,” said Hide unconvincingly. “Anyway, let’s just say I’m beginning to doubt the logic of the universe. Paradoxes are overlapping. The timelines are collapsing on themselves. My actions throughout each timeline have inadvertently created ripples that are beyond my control.”

“Which means…”

“Which means the world might be ending soon.”

Kaneki frowned and crossed his arms. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I wish.”

The skepticism was still evident on Kaneki’s face. He said cautiously, “So what do we do?”

“Nothing.” Hide leaned back against the couch with his arms behind his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Kaneki’s frown grew. “I don’t understand. Why did you look for me? Why are you telling me all this? You wanted to find a solution together, right?”

“Not really.” The blond flashed Kaneki a genuine smile. “Jeez, Kaneki. Can’t I seek the company of my best friend without ulterior motives for saving the world in mind?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Kaneki, shaking his head. “You said you wanted to die.”

“And I do,” said Hide nonchalantly. “It doesn’t have to make sense. But if you really want a reason for it, consider it my last will, to see your face and to be able to talk to you honestly at least once before we all kick the bucket.”

Kaneki was quiet for a while.

“I don’t know what to think,” he eventually said in a low voice. “Frankly, I’m bewildered by a lot of things. All of this about time traveling, and my other selves in other timelines, and the existence of ghouls… and the end of the world…”

“I’m burdening you like this, I know,” said Hide. His smile was sad again, and Kaneki realized he was sad too. “But, you know, I’ve tried again and again to make things as painless as you for possible, in the other timelines. No matter what I do, I can never get it right.”

Kaneki didn’t know what to say. He was grateful for someone like Hide, even though he had never known the guy before. It was an odd feeling, to be able to trust a stranger so strongly in the span of a few hours.

“What are you going to do now?”

Hide smiled brilliantly again. “Spend time with my best friend, of course. Until the world ends.”

…

…

…

…

…

 

* * *

 

**v. methuselah//2 nd person/past**

 

“I want to tell you now. 

Those were the words at the start of your demise. It didn’t take long for you to unravel.

“About?”

You shouldn’t have asked. Why further the magnitude of your destruction?

“How I travelled through time.”

“Oh, that? It’s been months since you first brought it up, and you’re finally telling me?”

You should have changed the subject.

“So you _don’t_ want to know?”

You should have told him you didn’t care anymore.

“…no, I’m still curious.”

You used to be gentle Kaneki. Pure Kaneki.

“That’s what I thought. Come on, sit here. I want to tell you this story face to face, not while you’re hiding behind some book.”

You used to be whole Kaneki because you were just Kaneki, Kaneki Ken.

“Alright – where did I put my bookmark?”

You used to be untouched Kaneki, cold Kaneki.

“Er – umm – oh, you’re sort of sitting on it.”

Even when others came to you with their problems and their sorrows, and you listened, you were still detached from them, the way that dreamers usually are, your empathy linking their pain to yours like chains, squeezing your heart until it implodes, but ultimately, somehow, emerging intact, with hope.

“Darn it, it’s crinkled.”

You wanted to keep yourself intact. You had never given yourself away completely because you didn’t want anyone to leave and to take your identity with them.

“Hurry up and sit, will you?”

You isolated yourself because you didn’t want to be alone.

“Alright, I’m here. Tell me the story.”

“Well,” said Hide, and he suddenly looked exhausted, like Atlas, or Orpheus, or Sisyphus. So many tragic Greek figures, and all of them together couldn’t understand Hide’s pain. “In the first timeline…”

…

…

…

…

…

Hide said that he was able to travel through time after you devoured his heart. You didn’t violate him. He had given himself up willingly. You were injured, and hungry, and weak. He wanted to help you. Even still, you cried as you tore through his flesh. But you ate, and you ate, and you kissed his bones when you were done.

As you ate, Hide was aware that he was dissolving. He wondered if death always took people away, piece by piece, like this. In increments, he lost consciousness and departed from his pain, and yours. And when he was sure it was over, he woke again, and he was in his room, writing his testament before the Owl Suppression Operation.

(Hide was never a piece to be sacrificed. You wished the first Kaneki had known that, even though there was nothing that could have been done. You didn’t know whether to hate yourself or to accept yourself, for bringing Hide to the current you like this.)

He tried again, and again, to save you from the trauma of having to consume your best friend, and each time he failed, your teeth sinking into the flesh of Hide’s heart sent him back farther and farther into the past.

Eventually, he succeeded. He succeeded, and the Owl Suppression Operation was avoided entirely, and you never had to face Arima in such a weakened state; but Hide had to go into hiding from the CCG, and you weren’t strong enough to protect him from both a ghoul world out for his blood and a human world out for his head. (Hide explained it differently, in the compassionate way of his, but by then, you hated the other Kanekis for their individual stupidity – the way you saw it, every Kaneki Ken was responsible for Hide’s death. Deaths.)

Even though he didn’t die at your hands, he was able to travel back again, somehow.

(“I figured, maybe the universe was cheering me on and wanted me to succeed. Or maybe, it cracked them up to see me fail. I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore what it wants from me.”)

But this world was different.

(“It was as if, somehow, by changing the circumstances of my death, I had also altered something fundamental about the timeline I was thrust into.”)

In this timeline, you had never known Hide. This Kaneki was a lonely Kaneki, Hide said, lonelier than all the previous Kanekis. This Kaneki Ken had a difficult time adjusting to various social climes and only went outside to frequent either the bookstore or the local zoo. This Kaneki had a lot of extra time on his hands and spent it writing his own creative pieces, and found inspiration in both human and animal interactions. This Kaneki occasionally had to go to his doctor because he had depression and needed a prescription for his medications.

(“It was because you weren’t there,” you said aloud in a half-whisper when you realized it. “In my childhood.”

“Hm, that might be stretching it,” Hide replied. “I don’t know if I have _that_ much power in the chain of events. It could easily have been something else that came out of my absence.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I needed you. I feel it.”)

Yet despite the huge difference in your excursion habits, you still fell in love with the ghoul named Rize, and you were caught in her trap, and you became a ghoul, once again.

Hide woke up after this had already happened, and when he pieced together what was going on, he tried to befriend you, but it was like talking to a set of closed doors – you were unwilling to make any human friends; you didn’t want to risk their lives. Those were dark days. Your depression got steadily worse, and though Hide tried to do what he could to help, the distance between you two was difficult to cross, in multiple ways.

One day, you fasted for longer than you should have. Hide didn’t explain why, but something deep inside you resonated with a realization: it was that tendency toward self-hatred that existed in every Kaneki Ken, that made you do it. You must have languished in self-disgust at the very thought of cannibalization, and refused to give into your carnal desires until the last possible moment. How weak you were – how weak you always have been.

You were ravenous. You couldn’t help it. Hide hadn’t realized how hungry you were when he knocked on your door with another attempt to befriend you. You pulled him into your apartment, and you ate him. This time, there was no close bond of friendship to make you resist Rize’s influence when you attacked.

(“The irony of it always makes me want to laugh,” Hide said with a dry chuckle. “Eaten alive again.”

“That’s not something you should laugh at,” you said. “I wonder if it was fate. That. And my meeting with Rize-san.”

“Fate,” said Hide distantly. “I don’t know. Maybe.”)

He came back. He tried again. And again. He always came back earlier and earlier in the timeline, like he did in the world where you two had known each other, but he was never able to return to the point before you were turned into a ghoul.

(The way Hide described it, like it was no big deal, hurt you more than you could have imagined. Hide never gave up on you. How could anyone deserve someone like him? Certainly not you.)

Finally, one lifetime, his life didn’t end in your jaws. Rather, Touka killed him, when he accidentally let it slip that he knew more than he should have. And with this variation in death came a variation in the nature of the timeline—

He woke up in a world where ghouls did not exist.

(“Like this world.”

“Yep.”

“Am I your first Kaneki in this world? Or your third? Or your tenth?”

The anxiety must have shown on your face. Hide shot you a concerned look. “I’m getting to that, be patient.”)

In this world, Kaneki was not so lonely. For some reason or another, his mother was still alive.

(“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that for a while. You said my mother in the other timelines passed away from overworking. That doesn’t have anything to do with ghouls.”

“Like I said, chains of events are tricky. Your mother currently owns a supermarket, right? My best guess is that the economy in this world has been better than in the other worlds. No taxpayer money going into the CCG, no active destruction of public property, that kind of thing. So it’s possible that your mother didn’t need to work as hard as she did in this world. But I could be wrong, it’s hard to say for sure. Now, _no more interruptions._ ” )

This Kaneki had a mostly healthy childhood with a supportive mother who encouraged him to go out from time to time and make friends. By an odd stroke of luck, he was a regular at Anteiku and befriended many of the staff, to the point of great paternal fondness from the café’s manager.

This world should have been perfect. Finally, finally, Hide had accomplished his goal – you no longer had to play the role of tragic hero. You went to a prestigious university and had a couple close friends, also in the literature department, and you took your mother out on a vacation every summer with the money you earned at a part-time job. You had a girl you liked who you knew returned your feelings, if you could just muster the courage to ask her out.

Hide believed that you were fit for only a beautiful life, that you deserved such a beautiful life. Finally, his goal was accomplished, and even though you didn’t have him in your life, you were no longer burdened by the weight of your existence, of your decisions, of your actions; you were happy.

The world should have been perfect. But Hide had not anticipated the consequences of his movements from timeline to timeline. The universe had grown unstable. It began with random pieces of rubble materializing, like a darkening hologram, in the streets, between buildings, even in place of buildings. The broadcast experts were astounded.

Then, the ghouls appeared. They showed up, one by one, every other week, and at first, they fed cautiously, under the cover of night, in dimly lit alleys. When they realized there was no CCG in this world, they discarded their secrecy and gorged avidly, openly. The police had no idea how to kill a ghoul.

Hide realized the extreme cost of his actions when a ghoul devoured your mother and took over her house, to use as a base. One night, you stood at the doorway, with a pair of plane tickets to Norway – you had saved up for a while; and Hide was watching, he was always watching, he had nothing left of his life anymore but to watch you and make sure you were safe, make sure you were happy; and he saw the telltale gleam of black sclera and red irises from behind the parted curtain in the window, and he sprinted across the street as the ghoul launched into you and sank its teeth into your shoulder—

He chucked a stone at the ghoul’s head, and it raised its head in a stupor driven by gastronomic ecstasy, and she laughed drunkenly at him, and he swore at her, and Hide could only do so much to distract her – in the end, she devoured him first. He didn’t know what happened to you. He hoped that you ran.

He woke up. Again, in the same world. And he didn’t know why time kept turning back, he didn’t know why he was given this ability, this ability that he couldn’t control; he wanted it to stop, once and for all, because his life had been stripped of all meaning but to give your life meaning, and he couldn’t even do that, he couldn’t even help his friend, the friend that he loved with all his heart but who always seemed destined to play the part of protagonist to a tragedy; you, _you_ , it had always been you, but he couldn’t even have you, and this repetitive life, these repetitive deaths, felt so so so _meaningless._

He found you again, reading in Anteiku’s garden. This time, he confronted you. A familiar story.

…

…

…

“…Hide.”

The blond didn’t reply. He had his palms against his eyes, and he was breathing heavily.

“Hey, don’t cry.”

He shrank into the couch. So feeble. So tired.

“Thank you.” More silence. “I know it’s overdue – and I can’t express it in words enough to measure up to how much I – you know – I’m glad you told me.”

And wasn’t that the truth? You met your demise at the face of the unraveled truth, the entirety of it, and his unraveled emotions. And so gentle a destruction it was – the end of a lonely, cold Kaneki built upon a pointless hope of greater fulfillment beyond your insecurities. It stung you, the realization of your self-centeredness. But to see something more similar to happiness realized in its stead; you were quite fortunate.

 

* * *

 

**vi. samson and delilah//3 rd person/present**

 

Kaneki Ken opens his eyes and finds darkness, but after a few moments, he can make out the shapes of a lampshade, a dresser, and a chair. A thin slice of moonlight hits the flesh beside him. Hide is sitting next to him on the bed. The blond is naked, and he gazes at the light in his lap with amazement.

“The moon is back,” says Hide. “Am I dreaming? Are we dead? I thought the world had ended…”

They are in a stranger’s house, sharing a stranger’s bed. Is the world still ending? Why were all those memories of the past, of their meeting, of their times together, so vivid in his mind? Did they travel back in time? When are they now? Kaneki’s mind spins.

He climbs out of bed; he is naked as well. He flushes in embarrassment when he senses Hide’s stare, but he continues his path to the window. He opens the curtain an inch and is surprised by the vast pristine snowfield and the sky full of stars. The brightness almost makes his eyes sting.

“Is this real?” Kaneki murmurs.

“Beats me. I don’t have any idea what’s going on anymore.” Hide lies back down and stares up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t mind if I’m dead though. It’s nice here.”

“Hm.” Kaneki drums his fingers against the windowsill. “We should shower, eat, and get out of here. Before the owners come back.”

“What? Can’t that wait until morning? It’s freezing outside!”

“…You’re right.”

Kaneki feels awkward as he walks back to the bed and slips under the covers. After shifting around for some time, he decides to take up as least space as possible at the edge of the bed by crossing his arms and pressing his ankles together. When Hide turns to look at him, he ignores his stare and continues to gaze up at the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” Hide asks softly.

“…I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?”

Kaneki relents and turns his head to meet Hide’s eyes. “What are we?”

“Was last night not obvious?” Hide says, a little dryly.

“But – is that okay?”

“Is it _not_ okay?” Hide frowns.

“No, no, it’s not that it’s not okay.” Kaneki tries to rephrase. “I love you. And you love me. But can it really be that simple?”

Hide makes a noise of understanding. It’s his turn to look up at the ceiling.

“I wish I knew,” he says. “Something might happen."

“It always has.” Hide glances at Kaneki in surprise. Kaneki continues, “I know everything now – I remember everything. What all the other Kaneki Kens and Sasaki Haises knew, felt, and experienced; I know and I’ve felt them all now.”

“Oh. You know. You really _know_.” Hide looks guilt-stricken. “I’ve failed so many times to save you. Can you ever forgive me?”

Horrified, Kaneki seizes Hide’s hand, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed. “I could never begrudge you for giving up your life so many times to help me.” Hide relaxes, but Kaneki grips his hand tighter and continues. “And all this time, you’ve said that you’ve been trying to save me from my destiny. But I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think there is such a thing as destiny, as fate. You assumed that my destiny was to live in tragedy, but you’ve been trying to save me from nothing – all life is tragic, but it as tragic as it is momentous. Every life that I’ve lived, every timeline in which I’ve existed, every Kaneki I’ve been – my most thrilling moments have been my moments with you. Do you understand? I’ve always needed you, not because of fate, but because you help me forget how tragic my life may or may not be.”

Hide blinks in surprise, mouth flapping. Then, he sits up abruptly, his free palm slapping his mouth.

“I’ve killed the idealist in you!” His words are hurried, his voice soft.

Kaneki lets go of Hide’s hand and groans. “That wasn’t the point.”

“But yeah, I get it, I really do. You were so passionate as you were talking. It totally caught me off-guard.” Hide laughs, and it is genuine. “Well then. What should we do when we leave this house?”

Kaneki thinks for a minute and sighs. “Let’s go back to Anteiku. If it’s changed, we know this world is different. If it’s the same – I don’t know, maybe the world is still ending? Maybe not? We’ll figure that out as we get there. If we can get there.”

“Sounds good to me.” Hide lies back down again. “Come over here. Stop being so awkward.”

 

* * *

 

**vii. cain//3 rd person/present**

 

The feeling of the snow giving way under his feet calms him. As the scattering of small neighborhoods cluster together closer to the city, Kaneki thinks about his options. He has thought about it all morning and, despite how comfortable it was in Hide’s arms, was only able to get a good hour of sleep. Still, the issue has been so present in his mind that he cannot think properly about anything else.

Kaneki is not a tragic hero. But is that it? Is that all he can to do circumscribe the shadowy parts of his identity, by describing what he is not? He is not a tragic hero. He is not a puppet. And he is not alone. How can he actualize this pivotal series of facts that have changed how he sees himself and the world around him?

He is not a tragic hero. But he can choose to die in a manner befitting a tragic hero, and fulfill a destiny that doesn’t exist, pointlessly, just to prove the pointlessness of it. Or, he can live normally, as monotonously and banally as possible, to defy what has ostensibly been his destiny, just to prove that there is no destiny.

Whatever it is, he wants to prove something, so that Hide’s accumulated struggles, and his accumulated struggles, don’t go waste. Even if there is no apocalypse, there is a tingle underneath his skin that seeks closure, one that goes beyond his love for Hide. It’s not that he doesn’t love Hide enough – it’s that he wants to respect Hide’s past agonies by encapsulating them into a single truth and executing one elegant decision, like that of a Takatsuki novel.

His eyes trail Hide now, whose footsteps seem lighter and occasional smiles brighter. They are holding hands. Their arms swing. Hide is a promise, half-whispered in the dark, like the sunrise. No matter what happens to Kaneki, no matter what Kaneki chooses to do, Hide will continue to shine.

They are officially within city boundaries now. There are a few people out and about, looking around mostly, some inspecting their apartment buildings, some wiping the windshields on their cars, some checking on their neighbors’ health, all still in a daze. A middle-aged woman, still wearing her indoor slippers, looks around in awe in the middle of the street, unaware that the thin fabric of her soles are soaked with dirty snow.

“So everyone still remembers that the world ended,” Hide remarks thoughtfully. “It’s not just us.”

“Yeah,” says Kaneki, staring at a stray cat emerging from under a cardboard box insulated under a heap of snow. It mewls. “It really happened.”

_(There is only one way through this.)_

 

* * *

 

 

**viii. jephthah’s daughter//2 nd person/present**

 

You enter Anteiku feeling melancholic. You have been here so many times, in different timelines, with the same degree of comfort. Anteiku has always been home.

The coffee shop’s staff is clustered around the tables usually reserved for customers, murmuring with serious expressions on their faces. A voice says crossly at Hide and you, “Can’t you read the sign? We’re clo— oh, it’s just you.”

“Hi, Touka-chan,” you greet, and the smile you give her is fond. “Is everything alright?”

“What kind of question is that?” Touka asks, scowling. “The world ended yesterday. Or at least, we all thought it did.”

“Hey Kaneki,” greets Koma. “Listen, the strangest thing happened to all of us. We all had a bunch of really vivid dreams, and as we were talking about them, we realized that some of them aligned together. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Dreams?” you say, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“It was as if each of us had lived numerous lives in one night,” says Irimi, her usually serene face replaced with a frown. “Some of them were quite terrifying.”

“Were they about ghouls?” Hide asks, and all of the staff members snap their heads toward him. You are surprised by his straightforwardness too. He grins. “Looks like I was right.”

“What the hell,” grumbles Nishio. He glowers at his untouched cup of coffee on the table in front of him. “What is all of this supposed to mean?”

Hinami, clinging on to her mother’s arm, says nothing. There are dark circles under her eyes. She’s severely traumatized, you realize. Ryouko is also silent. She hugs her child close.

“We’re waiting for Yoshimura-san and Renji to arrive,” Koma explains. “Maybe they’ll have a better idea of what’s going on. Since Yoshimura-san’s daughter is a pretty famous novelist, we figured maybe she’d have some of her connections tell her what happened.”

You suddenly realize something strange. The Takatsuki Sen books have been the same in every timeline – down to every chapter, page, and word. If Yoshimura was able to raise his daughter with his wife, why did this Takatsuki Sen turn to writing? And even beyond that, if her experiences in this timeline were different from those of other timelines, could it merely be a coincidence that her novels, the embodiment of her experiences and the state of her mind, were all the same?

“Is everything okay?” Hide mutters.

You blink rapidly, stirring out of your thoughts. “I’ll tell you later.”

“So, where were you guys the night of the apocalypse?” Touka asks, arms crossed. The small smile on her face is knowing. “I don’t take it you were visiting family?”

You realize you’re still holding Hide’s hand. “Hm. Just running away, I guess.”

“I still don’t get that,” says Nishio. “Why would anyone run away during an apocalypse? If the world is ending, the world is ending. You can’t go anywhere beyond this world by trying to escape.”

“It’s stubbornness to live,” says Irimi with a sigh. “Human resolve will do everything it can to preserve what it values most.”

“Hn,” Nishio grunts in response.

“Aw, Nishiki, are you thinking about your girlfriend?” Koma asks teasingly.

“Shut up,” Nishio sputters. “You don’t know m—”

Bells ring as the door of the shop opens. It’s Yoshimura and Renji. Renji’s face is stern, almost grim, while Yoshimura’s is more relaxed, although slightly taut at the corners of his lips as well. You feel strangely detached as you notice this. It’s as if someone has pulled out something essential in you, something full of gentleness and hope – perhaps a consequence of the recovery of your memories?

Yoshimura looks directly at you, and there is a hint of a question in the crinkle of his brow. You give a subtle nod in return, and mind made up, the manager of the shop clears his throat.

“It seems that the truth is too long and complicated for me to sufficiently describe on my own. Therefore, I’ve brought my daughter here to give you all the proper explanation you are due.”

Yoshimura Sen’s small, lithe form emerges from behind the two. She beams at each occupant in the room. When her smile turns to you, you see that behind the round wire rims of her spectacles, her faded green eyes are all-knowing.

 

* * *

 

**ix. judith//1 st person/present**

 

I am not a tragic hero. That’s why I’m here, in one of Anteiku’s storage rooms in the back. I’ve tied a rope to the ceiling fan and prepared my will, and my letters of farewell, and lay them visibly on a nearby table. I’m standing on a stool, ready to tuck my neck into the noose.

Yoshimura Sen was the one who gave Hide the ability to time travel. I don’t believe in God, but if anyone could come close to being God, it would be Yoshimura Sen. As Takatsuki Sen, she created entire worlds, and as the alleged one-eyed king, she destroyed entire worlds too.

Hide wanted to know more – how she gave him the ability, when she gave him the ability, _why_ she gave him the ability; but she was cryptic with her answers. It frustrated Hide, even though he tried not to show it. I hated her for drawing that look of pain to his face, but I knew I should be thankful for her too. It’s complicated to explain just right, but I know that I needed Takatsuki, Yoshimura Sen, just as much as I needed Hide in my life – lives.

As I reach for the rope, I still have mixed feelings about her role in the events thus far. Throughout the timelines, she was able to retain her memories of the first lifetime. Whenever Hide died, she was swept away with him into the next world and our next chance. The fact that she couldn’t be more straightforward with him and guide him even just a little bit – I don’t understand it. How could she not be sympathetic towards all of his suffering?

She granted him the ability to travel time because she herself could not use the ability. Just like how in myth, the gods needed heroes to do their bidding, Yoshimura Sen needed Nagachika Hideyoshi to actualize what she could not: the restructuring of order in the universe.

My palms are sweating as I grip the rope. I’m nervous, to be honest. I’ve imagined and meticulously planned for everything up to this point. Now, I am on my own. I cannot visualize death because, though Hide has died repeatedly, I myself have never died, and I have nothing I can compare this moment to.

This is all I’ve wanted, I tell myself. A chance to take action and prove something, to leave an indelible mark in the hearts of those who believe in fate; I am a metaphor. This will be the greatest accomplishment of all the lives I’ve lived.

Hide will grieve. I know this might break him, just as his suicide attempt once broke me. But he’d understand, I know he would, that the foundation of the lives I once lived was hope, and now that I am free of that hope, my instability is pushing me to the very edge of death. I am teetering on a tightrope.

I am twisting the rope tightly around my neck. Then, I am bound, like a dog. I have finally become a slave to the ultimate end – finally, after all of Hide’s tries to save me from it, among other things.

I breathe slowly through my nose. But the longer I breathe, the less I want to kick the stool away from under my feet. I realize I would rather stay in this position forever, about to commit the deed, but never truly. I want to feel that I am just about to lose my breath, but I don’t want to stop breathing. Once I stop breathing, I won’t know what it is to feel I am about to lose my breath.

My imagination is my bane; every time I will my muscles to move, my toes twitch but my limbs are paralyzed. All of my Kaneki Kens and Sasaki Haises will not manifest any courage in me to fulfill the deed. I feel empty, like this. And alone, so alone.

My thoughts take the shape of a pendulum swinging wildly in different directions. If I stay in this position, I will never be satisfied because I haven’t finished what I had set out to do. But if I make that last move, a swift kick to the rim of the stool, I will never be content because I won’t be able to feel anything when I die. But if I remain like this, I will be happy knowing I am about to prove the pointlessness of my death. But if I never actually knock the stool over, I will never prove the pointlessness of my death, and knowing that will kill my satisfaction. And if I kill myself, I will never get to know that satisfaction.

I loosen the knot around my neck and slip my head out. Then, I sit on the floor, by the stool, and I press my palms into my eyes, like how I saw Hide once do.

Nothing makes sense. The world around me shimmers, like a mirage. The past and the present have fluctuated so rapidly in my head, as my memories came back to me, as the timelines began to converge once more from their fractured state – suicide seemed like the natural action to take. Its metaphorical purpose tempted me so much so that I forgot to think about if I even wanted to live.

I just wanted – I just want – if only I could live believing –

Something in me cracks. I can feel each individual seam tearing apart. I start to cry. I can’t help it. I don’t want to die. I’m terribly, terribly afraid of death. And what’s more, I want to live, but I don’t know what to do with my life, because every single one of my lives has been steeped in tragedy, and every single time, Hide has tried to fix it and ended up dying in my stead. There is guilt in my heart, but love also, and I am afraid of what kind of danger this love may put Hide in.

In this strange, strange world with no ghouls, no CCG, I am lost. Reality is no tragedy, but all tragedy is reality. Whether fate exists or not, whether I am meant to be a tragic hero or not, whether I am allowed to be happy or not – such things mean little to me if I am just allowed to keep breathing. Anything else is so, so terrible.

“Hide,” I say, and my voice is little more than a hiccup. “Hide.” I keep repeating Hide’s name, like a broken mantra, though I’m not sure exactly why, not anymore. “Hide.”

 

* * *

 

  **x.** **epilogue//2 nd person/future**

 

…

…

…

You will seat yourself at a table in Anteiku’s garden, reading a book by Natsume Soseki. A classic. By then, you will have moved on from Takatsuki Sen novels, at least for the moment, and on to Natsume Soseki. The literary giant is one of Sen’s revered influences – you’ll want to trace yourself back on the literary chain. You’ll want to see the past as clearly the past, separate from the present, and different from the future.

Then, as you’re reading, Hide will sit in front of you. He has brought a cup of coffee for you. There will be a foreign language studies textbook tucked in his armpit, and a pencil behind his ear. Trying again for a college degree, same as you.

You will smile at him, as sunnily as you can, and Hide will respond with a broad grin of his own. He’ll put his textbook flat on the desk, and you’ll sip your cup. The bold aroma of this variety will stimulate your senses. A small contented sigh will leave your lips, and Hide will reach out for your hand to squeeze it.

All the way into the afternoon sun, and even longer, as the day’s last light drips into the buildings behind you, and the long shadows of your and Hide’s amalgamated bodies stretch deeply into the lawn; you will continue to smile. Maybe not an entire one, just an upward tweak in the corners of your lips – and so you will enjoy every minute in this life, this timeline, that has overturned everything you thought you knew about all life and all timelines.

Hide was a promise, half-whispered in the dark. But he will no longer be a symbol of light to you, and you will no longer be under any illusions that he is anything more than he says he is. When he stares at you with those warm eyes, and smiles with that authenticity you know he is capable of, you will not feel sunshine, but rather, you will see another fading silhouette, doing its best to keep its darkness beautiful.

Hide has succeeded in that, will continue to succeed that. And you will try to do that too. For what else can you do, in such a world where fate is as absurd as happiness, and happiness is as inevitable as fate?

Hide will close his textbook with a heavy _whump_ , and you will look up from your empty cup, your book already closed and turned over, cover face down.

“Gee, I’m beat,” he will say. Then, he will ask, “Something on your mind?”

“Mm… nothing… everything?” you will respond.

And he will understand, so he’ll nod and say, “Another one of those moments. Guess there’s only one thing to do. Let’s go back home. Get your mind off of things.” And he’ll waggle his eyebrows, and you’ll roll your eyes, your cheeks reddening all the same.

You’ll drop off the empty cup at the counter inside Anteiku, and Touka and the others will wish the two of you good night. On the way to your apartment, as you cross the busier streets into the quieter ones, reveling in the peace that finally exists in common alleyway shadows, in a world without ghouls, you will stare up at the dying twilight and the silhouettes of the electricity lines stretching from pole to pole, on and on, endlessly.

And a sharp autumn wind will coax you closer to Hide’s warm body, and when the proximity becomes too much, you will tug him further into the shadows to kiss him, and he will cling to you, satisfied.

…

…

…

_fin._

…

…

…

* * *

 

“The human heart has a tiresome tendency to label as fate only what crushes it. But happiness likewise, in its way, is without reason, since it is inevitable.”

-“Appendix: Hope and the Absurd in the Work of Franz Kafka” from _The Myth of Sisyphus_ by Albert Camus

**Author's Note:**

> So the point of the fluctuating narrative voices was to make the reader feel the same instability, the same confusion of one's sense of time and identity, that Kaneki feels. Not sure how successful that was, but meh, I tried.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
